The Young Maiden

by A. B. Muzzey

“Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear The freedom of a mountaineer; A face with gladness overspread! Soft smiles, by human kindness bred! And heavenliness complete, that sways Thy courtesies, about thee plays.”

Of what avail indeed is the best literary education, if the heart be left barren and dead? Can any degree of knowledge compensate for a selfish spirit? Let envy, pride, jealousy, vanity, be nurtured by the studies that engage the mind of a young lady, and who can rejoice at her intellectual progress? Better have less learning, less mental power, than increase these possessions only to desecrate them in the service of iniquity. Ignorance is always a less evil than guilt. No amount of literary acquisitions can atone for the want of a spiritual mind, for frivolity, heartlessness, and irreligion. Let then the desire to be useful, to be holy and heavenly, crown and consecrate the education of woman. Let her ponder on wisdom and learning, and “lay all these things to her heart.”

Female culture should always have reference to the Future. It should lead to a remembrance of the “latter end” of life’s course. How much has been done, in this work, for the present, for show and effect. Instead of rearing a thorough edifice, of sound materials, and on a firm foundation, the endeavor has too often been to build up in a day a specious structure. So has it been, that, when, the storms of life came on, the moral building was rocked by the winds, the rain pierced its thin covering; it rested on the sand; it fell, and great was its fall.

Here is a young school-girl. What is to be her situation on arriving at womanhood? Must she assume responsible stations? Have we here the germ of the conjugal tie, and the elements of maternal influence? How then can we forget these relations, and train a being fit only to bask in the beams of praise? Let not this be. Address now the same motives as you must in subsequent years. If there must then be self-denial, toil, and care, for the love of humanity, leave not the young heart, at this stage, to become steeped in selfishness. Let the glory of God and the good of man become now solemn and effective considerations.

We come here to speak naturally of the Place, the theatre, on which the young female must be educated.

It is to be done partly in public, at the schools instituted for this purpose. But I do not design to enter the halls of science and literature. I would rather, adverting here to the conclusion of her studies, confine myself to the use which a young lady should make of the education she has received at school. The advantages, now enjoyed by the youth of our land for mental culture, are rare. Parents are solicitous that their children should spend much time at the seats of learning. The daughters are receiving a far higher intellectual training than their mothers enjoyed. But is this all a sure good? Have the thousand rivulets of learning that now flow fast by our homes, sprung all from a crystal fount? Do they, in a word,—for that is the test question,—so penetrate the life and soul of the young, as to give them solid, practical excellence? I fear not.

Much is said about “finishing the education.” And finished, in one sense, is that of many females in this age. For, between their school culture and their subsequent character, there is as little connection as between the body and its dress. The school-room is left, and the garment, so beautiful to the eye, falls at once off. Into the centre and essence of the individual’s being, the permanent character, nothing has passed. The books once studied are gladly thrown aside. Not a single motive is felt, to press forward in the noble work of self-education. Languages have been learned; but their great object, as keys to the study of foreign literatures, is left unanswered. History is a dull theme; philosophy is merged in the newest novel; dress and gossip, a little fancy needle-work, and a world of castle-building,—oh! it is sad; it is humiliating; would to God it were false. I speak to the wise, judge ye, and say if the picture has not some counterpart within your personal knowledge.

But how should the young lady improve the literary privileges of her early days? Let her not depend on the reputation of the teacher who instructed her, nor of the school, high though it be, which she last attended; nor yet again on the branches she has studied, however numerous or unusual they are. It is her own efforts, the attention, the application, and the intellectual toil she passed through, on which alone she may reflect with satisfaction. What effect did all these studies produce on her mind? Is the tree laden with fruits, or did the profusion of blossoms fall barren to the earth?

Among the results of a good intellectual training is this; it gives vigor to all the powers of the mind. Memory is cultivated, but not at the expense of the understanding. Female pupils often shine in those branches which depend on mere memory, while they fail in those which task the reason. Geography and history are their delight; mathematics and metaphysics, their aversion. This should not be.

Woman is exposed, by her habitual seclusion, to many narrowing influences. She has little of that severe discipline of the mind to which man is daily subjected. His intercourse with the world is more extensive. His whole life is a school for the intellect, while she is restricted, to a great degree, within the limits of home. Her duties consist much of details; and small subjects engender contracted views. Therefore should her early days be devoted to studies that, in after life, will serve to counteract this evil tendency. It should be made a matter of principle with teachers and parents,—and the pupil must, of course, co-operate in their plan,—to enlarge her mental vision, to fortify her intellect against limited notions, and to strengthen her judgment. The atmosphere of the fireside is often close and oppressive; let her in her youth, breathe the free air of heaven. So will her mental constitution be invigorated and prepared for all coming duty.